Against the Fortress That It Made of You
by runicmagitek
Summary: He was different back in the tomb and Celes can't help but question his sentiments, for it only reminds her of she's been through. Celes/Setzer


The frigid air worked its magic to sober Celes from her muddy thoughts. Even through the newfound clarity, she couldn't pinpoint precisely what was refreshing about the upper deck of the airship. Maybe it was the experience of the high altitude and joining the birds up in the clouds. Her hair billowed in the breeze. Nothing held any of them back when they flew.

Or maybe it was because _he_ was also present.

Setzer wasn't by the helm of the Falcon when Celes emerged from below, leaving Edgar and Sabin to entertain themselves. The vessel stalled, suspending in midair. As for Setzer, he was stationed by the bow with his back to Celes. The wind danced within both his black jacket and silvery hair, but he did not flinch to either the breeze or her presence.

She could have left him alone. Did he even want that? In the past, he always smiled and enjoyed the present moment, despite having little to no common ground with the Returners. To find him nearly obliterated from copious amounts of alcohol in Kohlingen was like a punch in the gut for Celes. She too, however, was beyond acquainted with reaching the bottom of despair. Setzer found his escape through liquor and Celes tried to find hers through a steep cliff. She counted her blessings for still existing; soon she did the same for him.

Thus Celes opted to approach him.

Blue skies lined the view with splotches of fluffy clouds. The sun warmed her skin, but it was the icy breeze she loved the most. Celes didn't fuss with pulling her hair into a low ponytail to keep the wind from claiming it; the wind could play with the blonde strands all it wanted. She closed in on Setzer. He didn't stir. The profile of his face revealed half of it buried in one hand with his chin tucked into his chest.

"It's beautiful out here," Celes said, her voice a notch above the softness in the air.

Setzer dropped his hand in an instant and opened his eyes to find Celes. She waited for a smile, a laugh, anything. A straight face - a little more stunned than expected - greeted her instead.

"That it is," Setzer replied after a beat. He cast his eyes over Celes, then returned them to the horizon. "And what do I owe the pleasure to?"

"Do I need to reason to come up here?"

"You? Never."

A small smile surfaced on her face. "Do you mind if I join you then?"

Setzer shook his head and stepped to the side, offering room for Celes to stand beside him. She occupied the space and marveled at the view from the front of the Falcon. Green hills rolled beneath them, lined by the ocean. In the distance, mountains permeated the horizon. Beyond that, who knew what existed. The unknown was plenty of an incentive to pursue flight, coupled with the distinct crispness in the air. Nothing to hold them back, no one telling where or where not to fly. One could become addicted to the freedom. Celes didn't blame Setzer for spreading his wings.

"I truly appreciate your help," Celes said once the silence wore her down.

"I know I wasn't exactly the easiest to persuade, but these times have been wearisome." He tilted his head back to eye her. "At the very least, I'm glad to know you're still alive."

 _So am I_. "But you could have said no."

"And why would I do that? Do you honestly take me for someone who wouldn't offer a pretty lady a helping hand without a coin being involved?"

Any other time and she would have laughed. Perhaps Setzer would, too, but the amusement was sapped from his tone, replaced with a dryness she couldn't determine to be jadedness or lost hope.

"It's... not that," Celes said. She looked elsewhere, watching a flock of birds head south in the distance. "I know none of this must be easy for you." Not a single sound left Setzer. Either his silence or her need to press the topic unnerved Celes. She couldn't decide. "You said she was a friend?"

"She was."

 _Was._ The word cracked in his throat.

Celes returned her eyes to Setzer. "Was that all she was to you?"

And Setzer turned to her, eyebrows scrunched together. "And _why_ must you need to know?"

The suddenness at which Celes came to loathe the word - a _friend_ \- was revolting, now that she reflected back on it. When her heart swelled in her chest and her vision of the world narrowed onto only one other individual, the feeling was never reciprocated. A moth to a flame, bound to burn for being foolish enough for drawing close. Celes knew better than to fall victim to childish emotions. Except she _didn_ _'t_ know better. Maybe she should have heeded Edgar's warning in Narshe and maybe when the trust was broken later on, it wouldn't have come as a surprise to Celes.

But it had and he treated it as a frivolous spat, like they were socialites bitching over wearing the same shoes. Except there were no shoes and they were military officer and rogue rebel.

And he called her a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. A _friend_.

She refused to cry, just as she refused to open herself in a similar manner again. In time, she detached herself from the one she thought she could have more with. Her sentiments were better reserved for bedtime fairy tales. Romance was but a hammer to a glass heart and Celes still couldn't fathom how to piece the broken shards back together.

When Setzer called Darill a friend, though, she pondered over the weight of the word in relation to Setzer. He spoke of a free spirit - making _him_ appear conservative - who flew by his side in utter abandon. Celes had yet to meet anyone willing to burn out doing what they loved most. Perhaps Leo, but even his fervent desire to right the wrongs of the world wavered before the image of this Darill. Many feared death, even those within military ranks, but Darill was sooner prepared to sacrifice her life than live by society's rules.

A friend. Or was she?

"You were quiet when we were in the tomb," Celes recalled. "Too quiet, even. I don't think I've ever seen you in such a way. It wasn't until we were properly heading to the Falcon that I noticed you couldn't look at any of us when you spoke. And there was this quality in your voice when he spoke of her... It's clear you admired her." Celes paused to study Setzer's face. It had softened, but his guard hadn't dropped. "Perhaps something more?"

A moment later, Setzer answered. "And what difference does it make to you?"

Celes inhaled deeply and ignored her heart racing out of control. "I guess I want to know if the impulsive, gambling airship pilot is capable of something beyond friendship and rivalry."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

And she nodded.

Setzer averted his gaze, hands planted on the railing of the Falcon. A breeze picked up and washed over the two of them. Celes tried to study his face; the subtle lines crinkled as he thought over her question while silver strands swayed in front of him. Without any answer on his behalf, Celes accepted that perhaps Setzer didn't wish to divulge the information. Her lips faltered and she organized an apology in her head.

"Yes."

She blinked at him and waited.

"At one point, anyways," Setzer continued softly. "She was the first, perhaps the only. I knew how tortured she was living in this world. Always told me how she felt she was born ahead of her time and this was a cruel punishment to be alive _now_. I used to say we could be miserable together." His lips quirked into a brief smile. "Fly away, try to find a haven in the clouds. No one to watch over us, no one to tell us what to do." A heavy sigh left him and floated away on the breeze. "It's been lonely up here without her."

"You miss her."

Setzer nodded. "Quite."

"And you built a memorial for her." _To allow her to rest in peace, to move on from this life that she hated. Maybe for yourself to move on, as well._

"Wasn't an easy task."

"Nor was reclaiming the Falcon."

He didn't answer immediately. "Darill would rather see her own tomb defiled so the Falcon could fly again than keep it locked up underground."

"Yet you called her a friend to us."

A tense hand ran through Setzer's hair, gripping at the ends before returning to the railing. "Some days I think I've moved on. I swear I have. Others... not so much. Even reminding myself of what I once had is like having my heart gutted all over again, let alone walking back through a tomb I oversaw the construction to. So I've stuck with calling her a friend, because all of you dealt with enough of _my_ drunken ass in Kohlingen. None of you need to be submitted to me crumbling and losing my mind over something I should be over by now."

"You don't need to."

"Hmm?"

Celes averted her gaze. "To feel like you're a burden. You're not."

"You only say that because I fly all you from point A to point B."

"Not true."

"Well, I doubt _you_ keep me around for my charm and good looks alone."

Celes didn't say a word and bit at her lip. She dismissed the warmth on her cheeks as something other than her coy nature stirring within. Perhaps it was the wind stinging her face.

"But to answer your question," Setzer said, returning to a warmer, charismatic tone, "when I'm not busy kidnapping ladies and losing to rigged gambles, yes, I am capable of more than cursory dalliances and affairs. Forgive me if there was confusion on the matter, but I didn't wish to unearth more sadness than what was already taking a toll on me."

She nodded.

Though Celes didn't expect Setzer to follow up once the silence lingered like a dead weight. "And has the ice queen General of Vector ever melted in the name of love before?"

He was teasing her. He had to be. Celes didn't need to eye him to confirm the sly smirk cemented on his features. But Setzer had answered her in kind and it was only fair she did the same.

"Once," she tried to whisper.

"Once?"

"Not anymore. It was foolish and stupid."

"Love does funny things to the mind. I doubt it was _stupid_ , though. What ever could happen to make you feel such a way?"

She closed her eyes and tried not to dwell on the past. "He called _me_ a friend."

Nothing but the wind tickled her ears. Celes focused on her inhales and exhales, almost forgetting Setzer was there to begin with.

"Is that why you asked me then?"

 _I don_ _'t know why I asked you anymore,_ Celes thought.

His sigh was laced with annoyance. " _Connard...,_ " he muttered, dipping into his native, Jidoorian tongue. "I'm sorry you had to experience any of that."

"No need to apologize," Celes said. "What's done is done."

"Yes, indeed." A pause. "I don't think I could ever call you a friend."

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned to Setzer. "What?"

"You deserve more than a backhand afterthought, no?" Setzer tilted his head. "Are you blushing?"

"I am _not_ ," she snapped back.

And he laughed. Gods, when was the last time she heard that delightful, genuine sound roll out of him? The anger dissipated from Celes and was replaced with a smile, albeit a small one.

"I think too highly of you to settle for just a friend," Setzer went on.

"Then what do you settle for?"

He grinned. "You are assuming I'd settle for _anything_ in that case, _ma cherie_."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Then humor me, Setzer."

Along the railing, their hands sat inches apart, if not less. At any point, either could have extended a pinkie out to brush over the other. A simple reminder that they were there, that this was _real_. Inches away, yet unmoving. Celes stared into his bright eyes through the veil of silvery hair billowing before his face. Not enough to block out his features completely.

Even if it did, she would have released her hold from the railing to push the locks out of the way.

For now, she still witnessed him smiling. "I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and find out yourself."


End file.
